Duty
by Elizabeth Kuhn
Summary: Okay. Short story. Warden's name is Chara. The final battle is approaching. I'll need your help deciding whether she stays with Alistair or Zevran ;)


Chara found she was tipsy at the Gnawed Noble Tavern in Denerim, wishing she was still with her clan. She had nothing left anymore, and what she thought she had found; he tossed away. Her thoughts unwillingly travelled to Alistair, who was to become King of Ferelden…and along with it, decided love had no place for his future. She took a long swig of her beer, finishing it and leaning back into her chair.

"And here I thought I was the only one who liked beer that much…" She tilted her head to take notice of her companion, Oghren. Over their trip from Orzammar to Denerim, she had grown quite fond of the dwarf. His beard was scraggly, an unusual sight for the dwarf who took pride in his beard.

"Well, with this upcoming battle I figured I might at least enjoy these simple pleasures a few last times…" She heard him chuckle as he pulled up a seat beside her.

"What's wrong?" He eyed her conspicuously pushing her tankard out of the way before she could start drinking another.

"I'm fine," she whispers, stealing back her beer. "I just feel like I'm being hit in the face with my past. When this is all done…what will I have?" She knew her willingness to discuss her problems was due to over-excessive amount of alcohol in her blood stream. "Alistair is going to be made king…and you will all return to your homes." A tear trickled down her cheek and she inhaled deeply; quick to wipe it away.

"You aren't going to get rid of us that quick. Alistair wasn't the only one who grew fond of you…We all did." The mention of Alistair's name was like a blow to her chest and she tried to keep from falling apart.

"How is he?" She asks her curiosity insatiable.

"None of us have been able to talk to him for a while now. He's been busy settling in." Her mind wandered to the thought that he was hurting as much as she was, but she shook it off. _He broke it off, it was his choice._ "Sodding ancestors Chara, you cannot waste away here anymore. We have a glorious battle awaiting us!" He extends his hand and she reluctantly took it, realizing she couldn't dwell on the past anymore. They reach the castle and Oghren hands her off to Leliana who is more than willing to help her dress nicely.

She has never been adorned with clothes and she knows Leliana knows how much this means to her. Though painful as it may be, the thought is sweet. "You will look absolutely beautiful, Chara!" She looks at the crimson gown Leliana has set out for her. Leliana help her out of her armor, and she slips on the dress, the feel of the fabric soft against her skin.

"I've never…this is new to me. I don't know what to say, Lel." She says, eyeing herself in the mirror. The contrast of the red dress and her dark hair suits her well and she smiles, reminders of her past life flashing before her eyes.

"Well it's a good thing there is such an occasion, because we would all miss a beautiful sight." She turns around and hugs her friend tightly, thankful that she remained by her side through it all. "Let's go meet the others." Leliana smiles at her and they head for the banquet hall.

"You are quite the sight, my dear warden," she blushes as Zevran embraces her in a hug. "I think we all agree." He nods to Wynne, and Sten and they smile at her.

"Are we ready?" She asks, and they follow her into the hall. Her eyes make contact with Alistair, who is at the head of the table, speaking intently with Teagan. Teagan nods to her direction and she watches as Alistair looks up, and then stares blankly at her.

She feels hands snake around her waist, "Let us make him feel as if he is missing something, no?" It's Zevran and for some reason, his voice is reassuring and she smiles. She returns her gaze to Alistair who looks rather betrayed at the sight of Zevran holding her.

Alistair clears his throat, looking away from her before they can lock eyes. "Now that Chara is here, we'll begin preparation. Riordan?" Alistair hands the floor over to Riordan, the senior grey warden.

"Above all else, we must stop the arch-demon. My scouts say the horde is heading for Denerim. With any luck, this will be where the arch-demon lays."

"If I may," Chara speaks up and all eyes fall on her. She is not used to these many eyes locked on her and almost regrets speaking up. "We have the Dalish on our side, as well as the Templars, and the dwarves. I say…when they march upon us, we strike them. We focus on limiting their numbers and send an expert team to deal with the arch-demon. There's no reason for countless deaths." Riordan approves as he smiles towards her.

"She is right," Alistair speaks up and she clears her throat, and someone is squeezing her hand and she looks down, it's Zevran. She looks back up and Alistair is glaring daggers at him, forcing her to keep a chuckle in. "Let us eat now, and we will focus more on this issue later."

During dinner, my companions were oddly interested in my time with the Dalish, and so I told them the stories of the old and shared my own journey's while with them. I felt Alistair staring at me for much of the dinner, though he ignored me. He was a very confusing man.

"Chara let me interrupt you for a minute. Do you know of the song Suledin? It's an Elven song." Leliana chirped up and she wasn't surprised she asked.

"Yes, I do. Our clan's storyteller, Paivel, taught me much. I was always fond of his lessons." She knows what Leliana will ask next.

"I know of the song, but not in elven tongue. Will you share it with us?" All eyes fall upon her once more and she feels confident. The songs of the elves have always been beautiful to her and this song was about the fall of the Dales; the struggle, the sorrows.

"Of course," she stood up, Alistair's stare even more intent on her.

"Melava inan ensansal ir su araval

tu elvaral u na emma

abelas in elgar sa

vir mana in tu

setheneran din emma na.

Lath sulevin lath araval

ena arla ven tu

vir mahvir melana 'nehn

enasal ir sa lethalin," her voice was soft, delicate yet a pleasure to hear. She knew she could sing. She was in hopes of taking over for Paivel once he was ready but was separated from her clan; not willingly.

After a pregnant pause, Zevran spoke up, "That…was breathtaking." She blushed at his compliment and hurriedly sat down. Once she had finished eating, she excused herself and rushed from the room back to hers, hoping to fall asleep. She had been staring at the mirror in her bedroom for quite some time. She was wary of mirrors since what happened to Tamlen. A knock interrupted her thought process and she halfheartedly walked over to unlock and open the door. It was Zevran.

"Hey Zev, what are you doing?" She asked inviting him into her room, "glass of water?" She asked and he shook his head.

"You left rather abruptly. I wanted to make sure everything was well." His concern for her had become increasingly overwhelming since a few weeks ago. She had no idea what happened to the heartless, shrewd assassin she had met almost a year ago.

"I'm fine Zevran," she whispers, glancing back at the mirror, staring at her reflection.

"It ceases to be that easy to believe you. You didn't touch your meal…and when you sang…there was too much sadness on your face to simply be from the reminder of Elvhenan." He took a seat upon the edge of her bed and looked wearily at her, "It's him, isn't it?" A tint of anger traced his voice and she wondered if maybe he…no, he couldn't.

She knew better than to lie to the Antivan assassin, "It is."

"Why do you let him destroy you so? You are beautiful woman. Surely any man in your sights would be yours." His words were sweet but careful.

"You know the struggles I face with…these shemlen. Letting Alistair in was a huge step for me. I trusted him and yet it seems he has proved to me that all humans are the same. They all want for power." she buried my hands in my face, ashamed.

"You can trust me, no?" Zevran asks and she hears the shuffling of his feet, unlike the assassin she knew.

"Yes…of course, Zev. You're different than everyone. You understand…but yet at the same time, you are just like them." She looks up as he has stopped moving and she can see her accusation has hurt him. "I'm—don't leave," She says as he turns around leaving sharply.

As she walks into the hall, he tries to keep his jaw from dropping. She looks even more beautiful than ever, a kind-of godly beauty. He focuses on breathing normally as she walks towards him. The elf walks in behind her, and cups her hand in his. His breathing becomes shallow and he wants to strangle him. He regains his composure, remembering he lays no claim on her now. _It's your fault, only you can fix it. _But he can't…because she dumbly made him king and kings couldn't marry for love. They had to marry for power and alliances. He watches as Zevran whispers something into her ear and she smiles, and he aches for her. He welcomed his old companions and his old lover before letting Riordan discuss the battle plans. While he tried to look interested he couldn't stop fussing over her, wondering what was going on between her and the elven assassin. He didn't trust Zevran. His heart stops as he hears her voice, something he has lay awake for, for nights. "We have the Dalish on our side, as well as the Templars, and the dwarves. I say…when they march upon us, we strike them. We focus on limiting their numbers and send an expert team to deal with the arch-demon. There's no reason for countless deaths." She was the voice of reason and he took a deep breath; wondering what he would do without her.

"She is right," he finds himself saying as he angrily glances between Zevran and her as he grasps her hand. Teagan motions for the servants to bring out dinner and releases his breath, not noticing until now he was holding it. He tried paying attention to what Teagan was saying about becoming king and marrying to the Orlesian princess, Darla for the sake of the two kingdoms. He paid little attention focusing on Chara's voice. She was telling stories of her time with her clan, bringing alive the stories of the fall of Elvhenan, a story he was familiar with. He remembers her voice sweet on his neck reciting the words of the fall of the Dales, memorized by her alluring voice. He snaps his neck as he hears Leliana exclaim in delight, now ignoring Teagan for what is all worth. Chara is hesitantly standing up, clearing her throat, gathering everyone's attention. She begins singing in what he can only assume is elven. He has to force himself to keep his self-control, knowing her lulling craft for singing was always his downfall. He missed her. He was going to see her tonight, he had to. After dinner, Teagan is recounting stories of Alistair as a young lad and while he's intrigued his mind drifts towards Chara, who he notices has excused her and left rather quickly. Since he is the heir to the throne, he cannot leave and follow after her.

Instead he sits there impatiently, while one-by-one everyone leaves the hall and soon he is alone with his guards. He excuses them for the night, "I am off to my chambers. I will fetch you in the morning." He rushes over to her door, but stops short when he hears voices. The door is cracked open ever-so slightly so peers in and sees Zevran and her. He wants to stop him from going to her and sweeping her up, because he knows that will happen, but something she says upsets him and he storms off.

Turning the corner he takes notice of Alistair and looks angrily at him, "She is still in love with you. I wish she were not, but she is. You don't deserve her," and he brushes past him violently.

He knocks on the door, and she hears her voice, weak, and "Come in." If she had known who it was, I doubt she would've willingly allowed him in, but he enters regardless.

"Hello Chara." He says and her fiery ruby eyes pierce his.

"I...you must be—How are you?" She stammers and it takes everything he has to not bring her close to him and smell her hair, wondering if it smells like mint leaves and eucalyptus.

"I am well. You left quickly at dinner. I wanted to check and see if you were alright." She sees her eyes lighten up, clearly at the thought of his concern. He can't take it anymore. He cups his hands around her face and envelopes her in a deep passionate kiss. Lifting her up from the chair she sat on, he began fumbling with her dress, whilst carrying her to the bed. There is no sign of resistance.


End file.
